Sweet little Baby
Resting in the hay,
Do You know why shepherds come
To worship You today?
Sweet little Baby,
While Mary hummed to Thee,
Angels sang out “Gloria!”
O’er flock and field and tree.
Sweet little Baby
Peaceful in the night,

Shepherds ran here breathless
To see this wondrous sight.
Sweet little Baby
Wrapped up snug and tight,
You set them free from fear and death
By being born tonight.
Sweet little Baby
Smiling at these men,
In time, You’ll be their Shepherd
To guide them home again.

Christmas is a wonderful time of friendliness, caring, and love. It is a time when all the world rejoices. It is a time of service and the giving of gifts.

The gifts of the Savior were precious and rare. He blessed the blind to see, the deaf to hear, and the lame to walk. He gave light in place of darkness, forgiveness to the repentant, and hope to the despairing.

This is a season of the year when we can bring gifts of joy and happiness to others. Like the Savior, we can visit the sick, give to the poor, and cheer the lonely.

At this time of remembrance and gratitude, we testify that Jesus Christ was born into the world as our Savior and Friend. We witness that He lives.

May our Heavenly Father bless children everywhere with the peace that comes through the gift of His Son.

Speak the truth in soberness (Doctrine and Covenants 18:21).
Every prophet has taught the importance of being honest.

President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First
Presidency, shares some examples of young people who
told the truth when it would have been easier to lie.

A M o r a l C o m p a s s

We all need to know what it means to be honest. Honesty is more
than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living,
and truth loving. John, a nineyear-old Swiss pioneer child who
was in one of the handcart companies, is an example of honesty.
His father put a chunk of buffalo meat in the handcart and said it was to be saved for Sunday dinner. John said, “I was so very hungry
and the meat smelled so good to me while pushing at the handcart that I could not resist. I had a little pocket knife. . . .
Although I expected a severe whipping when father found it out, I
cut off little pieces each day. I would chew them so long that they got white and perfectly tasteless. When father came to get the meat he asked me if I had been cutting off some of it. I said ‘Yes. I was so hungry I could not let it alone.’ Instead of giving me a scolding
or whipping, father turned away and wiped tears from his eyes.”

Honesty is a moral compass to guide us in our lives. . . . I would like to tell you a story of an excellent athlete—a young man with superb character. He never went to the Olympics, but he stands as tall as any Olympian because he was honest with himself and with his God. The account is told by a coach in a junior high school. He states: “Today was test day in climbing the rope. We climb from a standing start to a point 15 feet high. . . .“The school record for the event is 2.1 seconds. It has stood for three years. Today this record was broken. . . . “For three years Bobby Polacio, a 14 /2-year-old ninth grade . . . boy, [trained and worked, consumed by his dream] of breaking this record. “In his first of three attempts,
Bobby climbed the rope in 2.1 seconds, tying the record. On the second try the watch stopped at 2.0 seconds flat, a record! But
as he descended the rope and the entire class gathered around to check the watch, I knew I must ask Bobby a question. There was a
slight doubt in my mind whether or not the board at the 15 foot height had been touched. If he missed, it was so very, very close—not more than a fraction of an inch—and only Bobby knew this answer.
“As he walked toward me, expressionless, I said, ‘Bobby, did you touch?’ If he had said, ‘Yes,’ the record he had dreamed of since he was a skinny seventh-grader and had worked for almost daily would be
his, and he knew I would trust his word. “With the class already
cheering him for his performance, the slim, brown-skinned boy shook his head negatively. And in this simple gesture, I witnessed a moment
of greatness. . . . “. . . And it was with effort through a tight throat that I told the class: ‘This boy has not set a record in the rope climb. No, he has set a much finer record for you and everyone to strive for. He has told the truth.’ “I turned to Bobby and said,
‘Bobby, I’m proud of you. You’ve just set a record many athletes never attain. Now, in your last try I want you to jump a few inches higher on the takeoff.’ . . . “After the other boys had finished
their next turns, and Bobby came up . . . for his try, a strange stillness came over the gymnasium. Fifty boys and one coach [watched]
breathlessly [as] Bobby Polacio . . . climbed the rope in 1.9
seconds! A school record, a city record, and perhaps close to a
national record for a junior high school boy.

“When the bell rang and I walked away, . . . I was thinking: ‘Bobby, . . . at 14 you are a better man than I. Thank you for climbing so very, very high today.’ ” All of us can climb high when we honor every form of truth.

Your parents love you. You can learn about how to follow Heavenly Father’s commandments and how to be happy from them. President Thomas S. Monson, First Counselor in the First Presidency, wrote about this recently.

Bring up your children in light and truth (Doctrine and Covenants 93:40).

Happiness does not consist of [great] luxury, [or] the world’s idea of a “good time.” Nor must we search for it in faraway places with strange-sounding names.
Happiness is found at home.
All of us remember the home of our childhood. Interestingly, our thoughts do not dwell on whether the house was large or small. . . . Rather, we delight
in the experiences we shared as a family. . . .

Seemingly little lessons of love are observed by
children as they silently absorb the examples of
their parents. My own father, a printer, worked long
and hard to support our family. And yet, following
church on Sunday, he often visited elderly family
members and brought cheer into their lives.
One was his uncle, who was crippled by
arthritis so severe that he could not walk or care
for himself. On a Sunday afternoon Dad would say
to me, “Come along, Tommy; let’s take Uncle Elias
for a short drive.” Climbing into the old 1928
Oldsmobile, we would proceed to Eighth West,
where, at the home of Uncle Elias, I would wait in
the car while Dad went inside. Soon he would
emerge from the house, carrying in his arms like a
china doll his crippled uncle. I then would open
the door and watch how tenderly and with such affection
my father would place Uncle Elias in the
front seat so he would have a fine view while I occupied
the rear seat. The drive was brief and the
conversation limited, but oh, what a legacy of service
and of love!

My young friends, let us determine . . . to make
of our houses happy homes. Let us open wide the
windows of our hearts, that each family member
may feel welcome and “at home.” Let us open also
the doors of our very souls, that the dear Christ
may enter.

By Kate Kellogg
Although I cannot walk or run,
I still believe in having fun.
While I am sitting in this chair,
My mind goes racing everywhere.
So stop and smile and talk with me,
And you will very quickly see
That I enjoy jokes, games and toys,
And meeting other girls and boys.